Daughter of Night

Thomas

Thomas's POV

We came upon the witch's cottage just as the sun was about to set behind the mountains. I wrapped my arms a little tighter around Mary's waist (her turn to drive the horse) as she steadied horse into a quick trot. The cottage looked normal enough, which scared me even more.

We dismounted and hesitantly made our way to the door. Mary turned to me and started biting her index finger like she always did when she was nervous.

"Would you like to knock or should I?" She asked not taking her finger out of her mouth.

"Well, I shan't deprive you of the pleasure my dear." I bowed and gestured to the door. She took her finger out of her mouth.

"My hero." She rolled her eyes and walked semi-confidently onto the porch, used the door knocker, and stepped back again. After a few moments we heard a chain rattling from inside and looked at each other nervously. A second later the door slightly cracked open and we were greeted by a frail voice.

"What is your business here?" There was no source of the voice. Only darkness.

"We can't see you, sweetheart." Mary said gently. I was expecting a little girl to come out of the shadows, but instead it was a young lady of no more then 18. She has very short fiery red hair and piercing blue eyes, as well as a rather fresh looking wound across her right cheek. There was a moment of thick silence.

"I don't hear a response. Must I repeat the question?" There was no life in her voice. Her question didn't even sound like a question. This young lady was drained of her essence somehow, and I made a silent vow to help her when our quest was complete. And by the look on Mary's face I could tell she was thinking the same. Mary cleared her throat.

"Um, no." Mary stood a little straiter. "Our business is with the witch to whom this cottage belongs. Is she presently available to have council with us?" The young lady didn't even blink.

"Yes."

Another long moment of thick silence. I squinted at her. Her pupils were not black, but instead were blood red. She stood a little straighter as if partially snapped out of a trance.

"Please, come in." She opened the door wider and walked inside in such a way as though she were made of wood. We heard the chains dragging again, but saw nothing. After a moment of hesitation, Mary took the first step inside. It seemed like a rather normal cottage, a large bookcase against the left wall, low ceilings, only three very small rooms. But what was quite odd was that there was no furniture except an armchair and a little table next to it. Someone (assuming it was the witch) was sitting in the chair by the fire, her back turned to us. The young girl had disappeared somewhere.

"Excuse me." Mary said politely, but with strength. "Remember us? You know...half of the people you cursed with your damned rings." She was getting agitated now. A low and demonic chuckle bounced off the walls and sent a shiver down my spine. A bony hand appeared from behind the chair and snapped. The door behind us closed so fast that the wind from the motion was forceful enough to make us take a step forward.

"Oh, my dears..." There was that sickening coo that Mary and I knew all too well.

It was her alright.

"You really shouldn't have come...but then again, I knew you would anyway." She stood with a great amount of effort and snapped her fingers again. The fireplace erupted into green flame and turned the whole room emerald. And out popped the furniture. A few chairs, a long table for meals or more likely sacrifices judging by the buckles and straps on either side. And in the corner, tied to a pillar was a weeping Margaret and a very confused James. Mary and I ran to them immediately, but the witch flicked her index finger at us, which sent us flying at the back wall. I hit my right shoulder blade on the door knob. I groaned through gritted teeth and looked to see what had happened to Mary.